Machu Picchu at last

We got our 4:30 wake up call, roused the crew, packed up, picked up our box breakfasts, and headed out to catch the first bus to Machu Picchu. Thought there´d be a few hard cores, but no, there was a line of some 200 to 300 people all waiting to board the ¨first bus.¨ But Peru has figured the game out: they´re making a lot of money now on tourism and it´s one sleek machine they operate. An endless convoy of Mercedes buses, sparkling and new, pull up and load the masses. We got front seats (exploiting the baby again, of course), and watched as the windy drive up the dusty mountain road unfolded like a movie. These are steep mountains, covered in jungle, and I´m sure damn glad I didn´t have to haul my lumpy white ass up there on foot. Before long, you see it, on top of the mountain, or at least a small part of it, and it is every bit as magical as you might think. Day had broken and mist hung around the mountain tops and you could almost imagine the that honky Bingham must have felt when he ¨discovered¨ the big Picchu. That magic is mitigated somewhat once you pull to the top of the mountain and find the Sanctuary Lodge ($700 a night, and the only hotel up there), more buses, a bathroom (1 sole, please), and of course a concession and souvenir stand.

Malu insisted that we take the long, hard route, so we did. The four of us (Kristina, superwoman, once again, hauling the animated but bemused Kanahe along every square inch of that tortured path) zigzagged awhile in the jungle before we broke out into the open, and there spread beneath us was the Machu Picchu you see in pictures. A series of buildings, terraces, walls, and greens that cover the top of the mountain, very orderly and probably bigger than you think. This thing is so high up, and the mountain it is on and the surrounding mountains so steep, that it is hard to imagine anyone or anything being able to break through its defenses. We covered the front and the back, found the ¨hitching post of the sun,¨which Malu and I were looking for, having watched a documentary about Machu Picchu (on the equinox, the sun passes directly over this stone, which is in alignment with another solar observatory built by the Incas on a neighboring mountain (which you can barely see). The Incas, it is said, believed that they had to ¨hitch¨ the sun to the earth or it would become unstable and lost. Whatever.

Again, it really is impossible to describe the place. So I won´t push it. I should note that Malu kept insisting that he wanted to climb Waynu Picchu, a taller mountain which sits behind and overlooks Machu Picchu. Beside the fact that only 400 climbers are permitted to climb per day, it takes 2 hours (looks like terrifying, miserable hours) using ladders, rope bridges, and panic control. It´s not something for a booted 5 year old (much less his baby carrying mother and his klutz of a quasi-uncle). He kept insisting that we climb it. And I had had enough. I finally said, yes, you should climb ¨Whiney Picchu¨ because it is named after you (i.e., the Whiney king of the universe). He got mad, and went off on a crying jag, telling his mother that ¨Freebird may be a lawyer, but he´s a mean lawyer. And he´s a liar.¨ I turned back and said, ¨What did he call me?¨ And before it escalated into a full scale battle, a sweet German woman stepped in and gave Malu a piece of candy. His mood changed instantly.

We spent something like 4 hours on Machu Picchu (and the walking is not easy). But we managed very well, considering. We were also warned about bug bites, and despite the fact that I dressed myself with some toxic local brand of repellent, I was bitten numerous times leaving ghastly whelts on my hands and ankles. Poor Kanahe got his first 2 mosquito bites, but he seems to be faring well anyway.

We caught our train that afternoon to Ollyantaytambo, where we were met with a driver who hauled us back to Cusco and our Hotel Ninos. Today, we had a great breakfast (Malu finally got the bacon he´s been asking for), saw the Cathedral (where Kristina...raised as one of those Protestants...was put off once again by Catholic excess...as in solid silver alter pieces, etc...several highpoints: a giant painting of the Last Supper shows the group about to chow down on cuy (guinea pig), the first cross brought to South America sits on top of one of the altars there, and was used for services (and celebrations no doubt of Inca genocide) by Pizarro and his band of thugs), and the cathedral was actually built on an Incan temple where, it was believed, "instruments of Incan power" were buried. Cool stuff. The rest of the day was spent wandering around, gawking, eating more extraordinary Peruvian french fries (they´re ubiquitous, and they´re fresh cut from real potatoes and fried in lard!), and what Kristina believes to be the best chicken curry she´s ever eaten, and keeping Kanahe and Malu fed (not easy). Poor Kanahe had a little constipation problem that he resolved during our lunch, causing an uproar at the table and out in the courtyard, through which he giggled.

We head out tomorrow to Lima and onto Houston and eventually Hawaii for the Hawaiians and San Francisco for me. I´m tired so it´s probably best we head home.

Regarding comments:

We have not been chewing coca leaves, but you can buy them by the fist fulls in the markets. No big deal. However, we have been drinking coca tea, which helps with the altitude sickness, but there´s no buzz really and it tastes like murky green tea.

We never found chi cha, the corn beer. Well, not that we would drink. When you drive down the road in smaller towns, you´ll see a pole with a red plastic bag wrapped around it. That means they´re selling chi cha. When you a good look at the place, it tends to be a smokey hovel, and the kind of place where men on the way home from the farm stop to drink and shoot the shit...not a place I want to relax with a 5 year old and 5 month old.

I´ll post photographs when I return to my imperialist homeland.

Some random observations: Peru is cleaner than any other Latin country we´ve visited (I mean, they keep the streets here as clean as they do in Europe...deal with it); as in many places in the world, few people in Peru know how or want to bother to cook a scrambled egg well; traveling with 2 or 3 changes of clothes continues to be the best way to go (watching the unwitting haul giant duffle bags around is a powerful reminder); Peru seems to have a much more efficient infrastructure than other Latin countries we´ve visited, with lots of transportation options; the people have been friendly everywhere, especially to the baby (although some of the women chastise Kristina because the baby´s head, hands, feet, or legs are not smothered like the Incas wrap their children...we had to sneak home from the restaurant today to avoid more of the chastisement), and the tendency to dress a dish with fresh cut, lard fried potatoes is a landmark achievement in world cuisine. I know it seems regressive, but it is a celebration of the simple perfection of a potato and oil. What more could you need?